Shotokan
by Seth Kotta
Summary: This is supposed to envelope the story my buddy, Hedgemon, is working on. However, he's waiting until he's finished to post his works, while I'lll do no such thing. It's kinda long, but it's good reading... I hope.
1. Seafood

1.01 – Seafood

I've never been good with words, so I'll get right to the point; my name's Shotokan. I used to be called Seth, but not since I red-pilled. Half of my colleagues don't know about my past, and I'm pretty sure they don't care. Neither do I, ever since I found out it was all a lie. The Matrix, they call it. All I know is that it tricked me into thinking that I lived in a small city in an even smaller state. Truth was, I lived my life curled up in a tank full of strawberry jell-o. I don't like being fooled. Maybe that's why I found him. Most of the people that find him actually looked for him. Little kids on their computers pointing and clicking through that sea of binary that they felt more at home with, searching from regular IRC pages to the most secure CIA files. But that's them. I was different.

I first heard about him after I finished in a tournament. It was the final round, and the finalists were me and this guy who reminded me of a sleepy-eyed version of Bruce Willis. From the second that the match started, I realized that he was good. Though his technique was excellent, maybe even better than mine, he lacked motivation. He fought, but he lacked a reason to. I was here for my honor, and my dojo's. He made a swing for me, but I blocked, and made a kick for his head before he could regain himself. He'd have died if he didn't have a helmet on, but that's not why I froze the way I did; before my eyes, in the path of my kick, was a tear in the system. I didn't know it was a tear then, but I saw it: Black background, green symbols falling like rain, yeah, I was amazed. Then two guys walked up to me. I could've sworn they were from the CIA, or the FBI, or another one of those places that have three letter acronyms. They asked me to follow them, so I did. I didn't know of anything illegal that I did, so I thought I had nothing to lose. They led me to a black limo, where I was stuck in there for I have no idea how long. We stopped and led me from the limo, through a parking garage, up an elevator, into a grill room. You know what I'm talking about; the kinds of rooms with a one-way mirror where cops interrogate suspects that have nothing except a couple of chairs and a table. I sat in front of the table. I sat there for a long time, worrying that Ted, my foster father, would panic and start calling my friends.

After what felt like hours, a man walked in. He was dressed just like the others, but he was carrying a manila envelope. He sat down across from me, slowly opening the envelope. At long last he pulled out a folder with my name on the tab.

"Mr. Kahtta, is it?" He said.

"No, it's pronounced with a long 'o.'" Damn people always got that wrong.

"Well," he said, "Mr. Kotta, do you know why you're here?"

I shook my head.

"You are here," his monotone voice drawled out, "Because you are in danger." I didn't believe him, but I didn't say. "We have been informed that a terrorist by the name of Argonaut has had his attention drawn to you. Why, we have no idea, but if he finds you, he will try to use you to his own ends, or kill you." Argonaut, where have I heard that name before? "Fortunately for you, we have found you before he has. We are proposing to make a deal with you, Mr. Kotta."

"What's the deal?"

"We are proposing, Mr. Kotta, that you help us find this terrorist and bring him to justice. We will tap your phone lines, watch your house, and monitor your movements to see if he will make any form of contact with you."

This sounded too easy. "And what's the catch?"

"The 'catch,' Mr. Kotta, is that you will be under heavy surveillance, as you have already been told."

I thought about it; these guys were hiding something, and I doubt it was anything good. I stood up. "It sounds too deceitful for me. I'm a man of honor, not bait for some trap. I'm sorry, but my answer is no."

The man looked up at me. "I'm sorry, but your assistance is not optional."

Two more men, the ones that confronted me before, walked into the room. I tried to use the opportunity to run in between them, but one of them caught me and threw me back. Asshole; didn't even see him move. I tried kicking one, but only succeeded in getting myself thrown again. One more time, this time I planted my feet. I guess they thought they had me beat, and were letting me have one last futile shot, but I was gonna prove them wrong. Focusing my chi, I charged at the one blocking my path, my right fist cocked for a punch. The thing is, I'm left handed. As soon as my right fist started heading for his head, I sucker punched him in the crotch. My fist broke, I think, but he was on the ground, leaving the door open for me to escape. I don't think I ever ran so fast in my life. I was in a police station, but I didn't take any time to look around. The exit was in between me and four or five desks – I could make it. I leapt onto one of the desks, jump over the second onto the third, jump over the remaining two. I almost reached it when I got hit in the kidney with a beanbag.

No! I was so close! I get grabbed by two agents who escort me back into the grill room in a not too gentle manner.

"Mr. Kotta," said the agent waiting for me, "You are going to help us, and there is nothing you can do about it." He reached into his blazer and pulled out what looked like a leather check book. As the other two wrestled me to the table, he opened it and I saw what at first looked like syringes. What were they gonna do? Were they gonna poison me? Then I realized that they weren't syringes; they looked like tiny springs attached to an LED light. The men held my head straight as the man with the spring pressed a button – at least, that's what I was guessing, because the minute he touched it, the spring turned into what looked like a chrome shrimp. It wriggled around in his hand as he brought it to my ear. Have you ever had someone put their tongue in your ear, and it felt as if it was going into your brain? Well, that's what it felt like when he dropped the shrimp, minus the wetness. I was screaming as loud as I could, but I knew nobody would come to my rescue.


	2. Heritage

1.02 – Heritage

I woke up in my bed, and the first thing I did was feel my ear. No shrimp. Was it all a dream? What was that black and green thing I saw at the tournament? I went to the bathroom and turned on the light. I was pale, and I looked like I was about to vomit. I vomited. I was wiping my mouth when there was a knock on the front door. I got dressed, and walked to the front door, making sure not to wake up any of the other orphans. Yeah, I was an orphan. My mom died while giving birth to me and my dad disappeared when I was four.

I made it to the front door where I saw possibly the most beautiful woman in the world. She wore black sunglasses and a black suit that would accent the curves in a pencil. Her red hair was French braided and tied back into a bun. Yeah, you could say I was in love, but love never agreed with me before, so I let it slide.

"You Shotokan?"

I was taken aback; Shotokan was the name I used in tournaments. How would she know me?

I tried not to hide my shock "Yeah."

"Follow me."

Next thing I knew it, I was in the back seat of another limo with three guns pointed at me. Maybe I should avoid limos in the future, I told myself.

"What's going on?" I asked.

The girl with the braid looked at me. "What was the dream you had last night?"

I thought it would be a good idea to humor them.

"I dreamed that three men in suits grabbed me and put a shrimp in my ear."

They looked at each other, and the girl in the French braid pulled out something that could've been pulled out of a science fiction movie; like a nuclear powered blow-dryer.

"Which ear?" she asked. I pointed to my right. "Put your head on my lap."

The man in the front seat looked uneasy, but shrugged it off. I put my head on her lap, right ear facing up. I felt the end of the blow-dryer-thing press against the side of my head around my ear. Up to that point I had been enjoying myself. Then she turned it on. I was in so much pain I didn't realize that she sucked something right out of my goddamned head.

"I thought so." She said.

I sat up. "Thought so what?" I could say without any shame that I was panicking.

"You were bugged."

She threw what looked like a spring attached to an LED light out the window.

After a few uneventful minutes, we arrived at a building that had seen better days. The side of it hung a sign reading "Heart O' the City Hotel." I decided that this would be a good time to put on my lucky ring. We climbed a couple flights of stairs when we stopped in front of a door with the number 4F nailed to it. The girl in the braid turned to me and asked me if I was ready. I said I wasn't, but I turned the knob and went in anyway.

Inside sat a man in a red leather chair wearing an even redder trench coat. Opposite of him sat another chair which was almost identical, and in between sat a coffee table that held a telephone, glass of water, and a small pill bottle. He turned to me, looking at me through half dollar shaped shades, and held out a hand. I took it.

"Good evening, Shotokan. I am sorry about waking you up so early, but I'm afraid our meeting couldn't wait any longer." He gestured to the opposing chair, "Please, sit." I took him up on his offer. "Do you know who I am?"

I decided to guess. "Argonaut?"

"Correct. Do you know why you are here?"

Again I guessed. "You can answer my question."

He sat down. "And what is your question?" I told him about what I saw in the tournament. "Ah. What you saw was a tear in the Matrix."

"What's the Matrix?"

"An even better question." He said, "The Matrix is what would best be described as a prison. As a friend of mine once said that The Matrix is a prison that cannot be seen, smelled, tasted or touched. A prison only to confine," he pointed to his head, "This."

He put his hand down, "The reason that you have been brought here, however, was because fourteen years ago, a young man came to me with the same question. I told him what I just told you, and I asked him if he wanted to see the Matrix for himself. He agreed on one condition. Do you know what that condition was?" I shook my head, and he leaned towards me. "The condition was that I would give the same offer to his four year-old son when he was old enough." He let that seep in. "Do you know that man's name?" I didn't have to answer, and neither did he; we both knew who he was talking about: A hacker known throughout the cyber world as the alias "Onore" who gave birth to a son at the age of fifteen. His name was Michael Kotta.


	3. Medication

1.03 – Medication

Argonaut picked up the pill bottle. "I am going to give you a choice." He opened the bottle and produced its contents into his hands. "Either you can go back to your orphanage and forget we ever met," he opened his left hand, producing a capsule full of blue liquid, "or you can come with me and my associates to follow the footsteps of your father," he opened his right hand which held another capsule with red liquid in it. "Remember, once you decide, there is no turning back."

I reached my hand out towards the blue pill, but I froze. I wondered if this guy was telling the truth, lying, or crazy. If he was lying, then both pills could be poison, but if he was telling the truth, then the blue pill would lead me back to a crowded orphanage, sub-par tournaments, and more creepy men in suits wielding chrome sushi. I didn't know if I could trust them. Then again, they've been right all of the other times. How did they know my name? Did he actually meet my father? Was he alive? Why me? Questions raced my mind at this point, and I looked at Argonaut. He was one hell of a character, and he sounded like he was telling the truth. Either sound of meeting my father for the first time since preschool tempted me, I was convinced that this Argonaut was telling the truth, or I was entranced by the girl in the braid. Whatever it was, I found myself swallowing the red pill and half a glass of water. Argonaut smiled and led me into another room with a bookcase, wooden chair attached to a computer as well as some other things. The girl with the braid stood next to me.

"I'm guessing that I'm supposed to sit there, right?" I asked.

"That's the idea."

I sat down and she hooked me up. After I was fitted in, she turned to me.

"Whatever happens, don't panic."

I didn't know whether I was going to live or die, so I decided to act like the latter. "Seeing as I might get lit up like a candle, don't you think I deserve a kiss?"

"Sure." She turned to the kid I met in the limo, "Aequitas, this man needs a kiss."

The kid looked up from the computer in confusion. "Wait, what?"

Argonaut stepped in. "We need to get moving. Graft, get a hook on him."

The girl with the braid went to the computer. Argonaut pulled out a cell phone. "Felix, stand by."

Then he turned to me. "Have you ever thought that you were somewhere when you were actually in another place?"

I didn't have time to speculate on his question, because at that point my lucky ring started stretching. It wrapped itself around my finger.

"What's going on?" I asked. Nobody answered. The silver finished covering my hand, and started creeping up my arm.

I heard that everybody experiences something different when they're unplugged: I heard that Neo, some guy who's prophesized to be a messiah of some kind, had a little fiasco with a mirror. Whatever happens, however, they all wind up in the same place.

What happened to me next defeated accurate explanation. I woke up in a sea of pink. I swam around looking for the surface, but I couldn't tell up from down. A dizzying feeling crept over me, and my arms lost control of me and flailed around wildly. A mass of black chords tangled my torso, restricting my movement, but I breached the surface. A hose down my throat was pushing air into my lungs, but my gagging kept me from breathing properly, so I removed it as fast as I could. After enjoying a couple breaths, I looked around and found myself in what I could guess was a glass bathtub filled with pink goop. My arms had black tubing sticking out of them. My legs had them too. My eyes looked upward, and I refused to believe them: hundreds of millions of people lying down, each in their own glass bathtub, attached to their own chords, spanning in every direction. Again, my eyes looked down, and I found myself suspended in midair higher than I could see, where there were more pink tubs.

Something flew up at me. I couldn't tell what it was, but I knew I didn't like it. An arm of some kind shot out at me and grabbed my neck, where it tugged at something on the back of my neck. It let go of me, and all of the plugs in my body popped off with gunshot-like sounds. All of the strength in my body left me, and I found myself face-first in the pink goop.

The rest is kinda blurry…


	4. Insanity

1.04

Insanity

Next thing I remember were people talking.

"Why, Argonaut? He wasn't looking for an answer."

"I know, but I promised Onore that I'd give him the same choice."

They say that when you die, you're surrounded by light. I never bothered to ask how they would know. I now believe that the phrase got screwed up and instead, it's that the first thing you see after being rescued from the sewers is the florescent light above the medical table. Soon my eyes adapted, and I saw what looked like Argonaut, except in poorer condition: His outfit was replaced with an old wool shirt lacking any sleeves, and his tribal mark was gone. To my right stood girl with the French braid, only her braid was gone, and her clothing matched Argonaut's. She looked down at me.

"Mornin', Sunshine." She said with a small grin.

"What the fuck's going on?" so much for composure.

"After you fell into the sewers you lost consciousness and we hoisted you up onto our hovercraft."

"What?"

Argonaut stepped in, "Just relax; we need to rebuild your muscles."

At that point I looked down; the entirety of my body was covered in needles. I tried to say something, but the girl with the red hair, whatever her name was, put her hand on my forehead, "Shhh," she said, "All answers will come in time. Now, you need to rest." A thing that can be said about women; they know how to make men do what they don't want to.

I woke up in what looked like a submarine's cabin room. I put my hand on my head to see if I had a fever, only to find out that all my hair was gone. I checked the entirety of my head. Yep, I was a cue ball. I also found a hole surrounded by metal in the back of my head. A hole! What was I doing with a goddamned hole at the base of my head!

Argonaut walked in. He asked me if I was feeling okay. I lied and said I was, so he told me to get dressed. I grabbed a wool tunic and caught up to him.

"Where am I?"

He continued walking, "A better question would be when, not where."

"Okay… _when_ am I?"

"You may think that this is the year 2005, but it's closer to 2205. I would give you the actual date, but I don't know it. Don't bother asking around, nobody knows. I'm the captain of the _Mikado_; the hovercraft you're on now." He climbed up a ladder, "This is the main deck."

"Wait!" I ran up to him, "I agreed to your offer in hope of finding my father. You said you knew him."

"Yes, I said I did. Before anything else, though, I'd like you to meet your crew: This is Graft," he pointed to the girl that I so longed. She looked up at me, giving me a sly half smile. Her hair was shorter than when I saw her the other day, like it was growing out from a buzz cut. "Aequitas," the kid I met earlier waved at me. I didn't know what to make of him, so I just waved back, "Felix is around here somewhere," a man's arm jumped up from an array of seven or nine monitors.

"Yo!"

He led me over to a reclining chair and told me to sit. The chair was old, had a couple of rips in it. What I was confused about wasn't that there were foot clamps, a headrest with a hole in the middle, but that there were over eight like it with computers next to each one. I asked him why, and he told me that he needed to show me something. An uneasy feeling swept me, but I'm not sure if I had any other choice. They clamped my feet down, and pushed my head back onto the headrest.

"Just relax," he said. He put a metal rod in the hole in my head.

Pain; that's the best way to describe it, I guess. Or, rather, "weird" could be a better choice. I wondered before why they didn't say "Hey, Shotokan. We're gonna put a piece of metal in your head." Oh well. I didn't have time to complain, cause next thing I knew I was standing in the middle of a white… nothing; no floor, no sky, nothing except for me. The white noise you get when you leave the T.V. on but nothing's playing surrounded me, and it was driving me mad.

I put my hands over my ears when I discovered my hair – my jet black ponytail – was back. I was no longer wearing that smelly old tunic anymore, either; in its place was my old denim jacket surrounding the green shirt my friend Gabe knifed against a wall; the rags that covered my legs were replaced by my favorite pair of jeans; I was even wearing my luck ring.

I was seriously beginning to question my sanity at this time.


	5. Soldier

1.05

Soldier

Argonaut appeared behind me, his red coat flowing in the wake of his movement. He turned to me. "Welcome to the Construct."

"What's the Construct?"

"The Construct is the loading program. Anything we need before entering the Matrix is made here; anything from clothing to weapons to training programs."

"So, if I wanted a lightsaber, you can make one from mid-air."

"We could, but the code for one wouldn't be accepted in the Matrix, which is exactly what we came here to talk about."

"So, what exactly _is_ the Matrix?"

He smiled a sneaky little grin, y'know, the kind the cop gives you right before he writes the ticket. "The Matrix is an arena; a digital battleground against the… – how did you put it? – 'Creepy men in suits.' We are the gladiators, Shotokan, and the Matrix is the Coliseum.

"You are wondering how all of this occurred, aren't you? Let me show you." He walked past me to reveal the two red leather chairs from our previous encounter and a Bose television set displaying a set of bunny-ear antennae. He then began a tale so fantastic that I was forced to believe him. He told me how the world was run by machines; that humans torched the sky into an infinite sea of black and grey to destroy the machines; how the… robots – 'Sentinels,' he called 'em – used humans as power sources instead of the sun. He was mad, I thought, until I recalled my bathtub incident, which made me think _I_ was mad instead.


	6. Flavor

1.06

Flavor

For the next three days, I spent my time getting to know the crew better; Felix was the first one I approached, and I got to liking him quickly. He and I would sit around talking about what our lives used to be like.

"I was fourteen when Argonaut found me," he said after trying to recall his past, "I was one of them there… what'ya call'em… Black Hats. Something like that, I don't remember, though. I just finished cracking one of the biggest codes in my life when my computer went completely blank," he swept the air with his hands as if to show me, "then some text starts popping up on my screen. I'll never forget what it said to me."

"What did it say?" I asked.

"It said 'you're trapped, Felix. Let me show you the way out. Answer the door.' Just then, the doorbell rings an' makes me jump a mile in the air. I start heading towards the door when a sound file pops up. It was a girl's voice asking for a light. The doorbell rings again and I answer it and in front of me stands the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She's in a UPS uniform and hands me a package. I sign it, and he pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. She flicks the lighter, but it won't light, y'see, so she asks _me_ for a light, and she asked in the same way, and in the same voice, as the sound file on my computer. My eyes get _real_ wide, but I give her a light, and I light myself one too, to let my nerve stop jumpin' around."

"What was in the package?"

"A CD case with no CD; just an address and a key to a locker. I head over, and it turns out to be a gym not half a block from my apartment. I open up the locker, and there's this cell phone that starts ringing as soon as I pick it up. Next thing I know I'm swimmin' in pink Jell-O a million feet in the air, naked as a baby."

Felix wasn't the only person with an interesting story: Almost every person I talked to had something interesting to say. I'd have to say, though, that Aequitas was marked pretty high when he told me that for a brief moment he could fly.

"That seems kind of fantastic." I laughed.

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Hey man, it's the Matrix."

Just then, Graft walked by, carrying a welding torch. She smiled at Aequitas and me, and my heart skipped a beat.

I leaned over to Aequitas. "So, what d'ya think of Graft?"

"She's pretty cool," he said.

"You think if I ask her out, we could pull it off?"

"Um, I think she's already taken."

Curiosity gripped me. "Really? Who?"

"Me."

I worked my mouth around, but my ability to say anything seemed to have taken shore leave, so I settled with staring at him. I shook my head, and tried speaking again.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know."

"I know. You're not the first to make that mistake, nor will you be the last." He clapped his hand on my shoulder and gave it a good shake. "Come on. Let's get some food."

Aequitas and I climbed down the ladder and walked inside a room. Welded to the top of the doorframe was a piece of metal with the letters "The Café" etched on it – compliments of Jiom; one of the crew members. As soon as we sat down at one of the two tables, Felix walked up to us and said, "Okay boys, what'll it be?"

Aequitas thought for a while and replied, "I think I'll have the lobster."

"The sirloin steak for me, please."

"All right boys, one lobster and one sirloin steak." He walked to the other end of the room, and returned with two bowls full of what looked like albino snot.

"Yummy," Aequitas said in a dull tone, "Y'know, if they can create this goop artificially, why can't they give us something that has _flavor_?"

It was true; the food neither looked like, nor tasted like real food – except for maybe old oatmeal, but who's counting? I didn't mind as much as the others – the orphanage fed us something similar almost every day – but even I had my complaints.

"Do we have _anything_ to flavor this stuff? Ketchup? Salt? A shiny rock, perhaps?" I moaned.

Graft looked up from her "lunch" and stared out towards space. "Y'know, I think this meal needs some cyanide powder."

"Or maybe some arsenic sauce," replied Felix in equal disgust.

A muscular man with shaggy brown hair that went down to his elbows leaned back in his chair. "I don't know about you guys, but I think this soup needs some hemlock extract so it'd be-"

"-Just like mom used to make," everybody joined in, shaking their heads. I plugged my nose and drank the rest.


	7. Poems

1.07

Poems

Argonaut was sitting in the captains seat of the cockpit.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Shotokan, I did. I have come to realize that we haven't done any training with you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're part of this crew, Shotokan. At least you are until we reach port, then you can leave, if you wish. My question is, are you ready to train now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Excellent! Follow me, then."

Argonaut led me to Felix's "lair," as he called it, where we found the guy typing a mile a minute. He didn't recognize us come in, which was odd; the boy had ears like a goddamned bat. Argonaut let out a quick cough to get his attention, in which he bolted upright at attention.

"Relax, Felix, we're only here for training. Could you load up the-" he froze, looking at the monitor. "I thought I told you to give up this silly idea."

"I'm certain it could work sir. I just need to work through some of the bugs." He held out his hands pleadingly.

"Felix, you know as well as I that such an idea is suicidal."

"But-" he interjected.

"No. It's ludicrous. End of discussion. We need to focus on training."

Felix's face lit up at the mention of training. He turned to me and said in a serious tone:

"Diagnostics or combat?"

"What?"

"Which first: diagnostics or combat?"

I thought for a while, then, "I already know combat, so I guess diagnostics."

"Excellent choice, lad." He led me to one of the chairs and strapped me down. "Anything you want to know first?"

"Yeah. You're traveling on a train heading east from San Diego…"

"Alright, asshole, I get it. Lemme see here…" he started rummaging through a box, and finally pulled out something that looked like a cybernetic playing card. "Let's see if you like a taste of this."

A wave of information hit me with the force of a falling piano: 01000001 01000010 01000011 01000100… The Alphabet! I was learning the alphabet in binary!

I was at a loss for words. Before, I didn't know a damned thing about computers, now I could speak in ones and zeros.

"What the fuck?" I finally managed to say.

"Do we like?"

"Dude, you taught me fucking _binary_. I never even memorized my multiplication tables, and now I can write a letter with ones and zeroes n' shit."

"Pretty cool, huh? Strap tight, little fella, 'cause we aint done."

"So, teaching me base-two is your diagnostics?"

"More or less; 'diagnostics' is just a fancier way of saying 'everything that's not combat.' Usually, newbies get all hyped up after combat and spend the diagnostics bored as can be. C'mon, we got more to do." With no warning what-so-ever, Felix taught me how to fly the ship.

After three hours of learning anything that Felix had to throw at me, he announced that it was time for combat training.

"Which d'ya wanna learn first: Pa Qua, Capoeira, or Kendo?"

I already knew Pa Qua and Kendo, so, "Capoeira."

"Excellent choice, my friend." He stood up, and cleared his throat. "Capoeira first began in Brazil, where-"

"Just load the damn card."

"Right, then." He sat down, stifling his chuckle, and loaded the martial art into my head.

Sure enough, I knew everything about it: everything from ginga to folha seca, yet something is missing. I had the technique, but…

"Stop," I said, "Something's not right." I stood up after unhooking.

"What's up? The computer said that it loaded just fine."

What was wrong? I knew everything about the style. I should be fine, but something was gnawing at me, an emptiness. At last, I knew it: I had the technique, but I lacked the poetry – the meaning of the form. I had learned the moves, but beauty of it left me. I was left with half of the Art.

Argonaut entered the room. "How's the training coming?"

"Not to good, boss. Shotokan here says that something's wrong with the last load-up, but the computer says he's fine."

"What's wrong?" He turned to me. I took a deep breath and told him what I had concluded.

"So, you're saying you received half of Capoeira ?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Yes. I don't have the internal part of the Art. I don't want to learn the forms this way. It's not…" I struggled for the right word, "It's not… It's not…"

"Not what?"

"It's not…" I bit my lip, "Correct."

"Correct?" Argonaut looked at me in bewilderment.

"I have learned four martial arts before I red-pilled, and none of them are worth a damn thing unless you understand the poetry of the movements. Without it you're just swinging your arms around."

Argonaut leaned toward me, "Shotokan, with this method I have learned every documented martial art, and I can assure you that this method teaches you to fight as well as any other dojo."

Anger rose up in me. He didn't know anything about the internal aspect of fighting. To him, fighting was just hitting somebody until he or she stopped moving. I looked at him square in the eye and said, "Prove it, then."

"Prove it?"

"Yes, prove it; you and two of your best fighters up against me in the Construct. If you win, I learn your way. If I lose, I learn my way."

The captain thought about it. "If I win, not only will you learn my way, but you'll be given janitorial duty until I see fit. Deal?" He held out his hand.

My eyes narrowed, and I grasped his hand with mine. "Deal."


	8. Battle

1.08

Battle

I had no clue what came over me: me versus Argonaut, let alone two people as well, what was I thinking? There was no way I was gonna win. At least Argonaut gave me the choice of when we were gonna fight. I knew four martial arts, not including Capoeira, which I haven't mastered, and I was up against three masters of every martial art known to man. Dear God, what was I thinking?

I got up from the bunk in my cell and headed over to the engine room where I was sure to find Aequitas – maybe he could help me. How could he help me, though? There was no way that I could receive help from anybody regarding this, but it was better'n sulking by myself.

I didn't find Aequitas like I hoped, but I found Graft scrubbing rust off of the floor. She looked up at me, and gave me a warm smile. God, how I wished I was Aequitas!

"Mornin', Sparky. How goes it?" She said.

"Meh," I sat down next to her, grabbing a scrubber, "I think I did something kinda dumb."

"Oh? What d'ya do?"

"Me an' Argonaut got a 'bout planned."

She dropped her scrubber. "You're fighting Argonaut?"

I shook my head. "I'm fighting Argonaut and two other people, three against one." I then told her about what happened during the training session.

Graft and I looked at each other for the longest time. It was if she was looking through my eyes into the very back of my head, looking for my unasked questions. Finally, she said, "You're right. What you did was dumb." I lowered my head in resignation. "But," I looked up, "I have faith in you." She put her hand on my shoulder.

"So, you think I can win?"

"No, but I think you'll get your point across. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm hungrier than fuck. Care to come with?"

"Nah, I don't think eating's a good idea right now."

I went back to work on the rust, but gave up after battling with a spot that was keen on staying attached. What was I gonna do? I dug myself a hole, and I dug it deep.

Getting off of the floor, I looked for Jiom. We didn't talk much, but he was good at helping people. Maybe he could help me. I saw Felix snoring in front of the monitors.

"Hey, Felix." I whispered in his ear.

"Huh, what?" He looked at me. "Damnit, guy, I was workin'."

"Of course. Hey, y'know where Jiom is?"

"I dunno," he yawned, "Check the Café."

"Thanks." I started walking off, stopped, and turned around, "Oh and Felix?"

"Yeah?"

"Get back to work." I hadn't walked four steps when the sound of snoring echoed the room.

On the last table in "The Café" sat a burly man with brown hair resembling a lion's mane playing with a deck of makeshift cards. He looked up when he heard the door open and raised his arm in a kind of greeting. He had a beard that looked like it was trimmed with a piece of sharpened scrap metal, and a scar running down his left arm.

"Howdy, Shotokan! Care for a game or two before I head off to scrub the bathroom? Or maybe I should wait for you t' do it for me."

"Hey, Jiom. I guess you heard then."

"Heard? Boy, there aint nobody on this damned ship who hasn't heard!"

"What am I gonna do, Jiom? I can't take on three people who can fight better'n me."

Jiom leaned back up against the wall behind him. "Sounds like you're lost your confidence there. Listen," he leaned fore ward again, "The last thing you wanna do is lose your head thinkin' that you're gonna lose, 'cause if ya do, then you already lost. Besides, I think you had a point: none of us here know the internal mechanisms that you know. We're fighters, Shotokan, but you're something different. Did ya ever see the Movie Braveheart before you was unplugged? Y'know, the one where they had blue face paint?"

"No, why?"

"'Cause I heard one 'dem guys reference to somethin' called a 'warrior poet.' You are a warrior poet, Shotokan, which means ya got that extra special somethin' that we aint got."

"What's that 'extra special something?'"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Hell, I dunno; I aint the one who's got it. Be sure to tell me when you figure it out, though."

"Will do. Hey Jiom. Y'know who's gonna be fighting 'gainst me?"

Jiom thought, "Well, I don't know about the other guy, but I know I'm gonna fight."

I blanched, "You? Well isn't that just dandy?"

"You did say his two best fighters, if the gossip's correct."

"Yeah, I did," god, what was I thinking! I might as well have told him to beat me with a shovel in my sleep.

Jiom left me to my brooding self, while I tried to figure out what I was gonna do. Should I just fight him and get it over with, or wait a while?

My decision made, I walked to the bridge where Argonaut was piloting.

"Argonaut. You and me. We got a 'bout to do."


	9. Preperation

1.09 – Preparation

So the date was decided: tomorrow, seven AM, I'd be throwing down with my captain, an urban yeti, and a mystery man. I'd be fine if I weren't scared out of my ass. I'd been lying on my bunk for what felt like hours, though the clock hanging from the wall by its own wiring told me it had been seventeen minutes. Why was I even scared? It wasn't like he was gonna kill me, and I knew I could handle scrubbing bathrooms 'till we reached port. Was I just afraid of eating my own words? Was it that I was afraid of finding out if what I had been taught while I was still plugged in was bullshit?

Fuck it. I wasn't gonna fall asleep and I knew it. I walked out onto the main deck, where I found Felix hard at work, typing away.

"Mornin', Felix," I said, pretending to be sleepy.

"Mornin'. Just a sec," he hit a couple more keys and turned around, "What's up?"

"Could you load somethin' up for me? Sleep's not gonna happen, and I need to get myself for my beating tomorrow."

"Well, if you're looking for a stress reliever," he looked through his stack of data chips, "I'm sure I got a harem program I could hook you up with."

I shook my head. "No, you got anything more tranquil? Like a lake or somethin'?"

"I'm gonna have t' check," again he looked through his sea of chips, "I don't normally get requests for lakes. In the mood for a swim or something?"

"Nah, I'm thinking about practicing."

"Practicing? I think praying is more in order. "

"A real fucking help you are."

"Yeah, I know. Hold on," he sat up, "No lakes, but I got here the setting for your fight. Pretty tranquil when you're not getting your ass kicked. Care t' give it a go?"

Felix strapped me in and loaded the program up, and, as if by magic, I'm smack-dab in the middle of a dojo. This was my first time in the Construct since my encounter with the white room, but at least I was prepared for what was gonna happen.

I sat down, crossed my legs, and slowed my breath. Slowly, my eyes let themselves close. Bit by bit, I emptied my mind of everything; gone were my fears of losing; gone was my desire to find my father, gone was my affection for the girl I knew I would never have. My mind was now empty.

I began the fight in my head. First, I fought against Argonaut only, his fighting style superior of my own. It seemed as if his dominate style was... I couldn't figure out. Something was gnawing at my brain. Capoeira. That damned style I only knew half of had creeped back into my mind. I pushed it away, and went back to my fight. This time, I could tell Argonauts dominate style; Wushu. This time I brought Jiom into the picture. Their combination of attacks was too much for me to handle, then my mind went blank. Damnit! Once again I was interrupted by Capoeira. I threw the thought of the style out of my head, but it just came back. Finally, I gave up; I emptied my mind of the fight, and focused only on the Art that relentlessly prodded my mind. I hummed a low note as my mind created a beat. I saw myself dancing in an unpredictable pattern – the Ginga. From the Ginga, I flipped, stood on my head, kicked, but I was still lacking the subtleties that the poetry of the motion was made off of.

I went back to the Ginga, this time focusing on how the body moved between the steps, but I saw nothing. I abandoned the Ginga for the moment, and went to the music that my mind was generating. Maybe it held the secret to the magic that was denied me through Felix's training express lane, but to no avail. I almost gave up when it hit me: This time, I looked at the moves, I listened to the music, and I saw it; I wasn't fighting, but through my movements I told a story; a beautiful story of a man with no legs who grew wings. I changed the pattern in which I moved and the story changed.

Quickly, I focused back on the fight against me and the two masters. If only I could find out the third person I was facing, but alas, I guess I was gonna have to wait to find out. I continued meditating on the fight until I fell asleep in the program.


	10. Showdown

1.10 – Showdown

"Oi, mate. Wake up." Felix said as he shook my shoulder.

I opened my eyes to see the blur that soon became my friends face. I sat up, still in the chair. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven. The rest of the crew should be showin' up any time now?"

I looked at him worriedly, "You mean everybody's gonna be watchin' me fight?"

"Well, it's not every day that your captain gets challenged by the new guy. This is a big thing! Dude, bets are being put on who they think's gonna win," he bit his finger in thought, "So far, Aequitas thinks that you're gonna beat one 'fore ya get pummeled, Argonaut thinks that yer not gonna get one down, Graft don't bet, and Jiom," he looked up wide-eyed with a grin, "Crazy man thinks yer gonna win outright! That guy bet five hours labor on you!"

"What'd you bet?" I asked.

He shook his head, "I'm bookie, but If I could, I'd bet you could beat two."

I plopped back on the chair. Well that's just great, I thought, I've got bets on me. Just when I thought that I couldn't be any more stressed about this fight, I now find out that I'm a goddamned betting object! Rubbing my temples, I asked, "How long have you had this bet open?"

"Late last night. Better get up, the crew's starting to show up."

Grudgingly, I got my lazy ass out of the chair to face Aequitas. We nodded our hellos, and waited for the other members to arrive. The hum of the ship echoed through my mind as I waited for the other two to talk. A few minutes later Jiom arrived carrying an aluminum jug of fermented something asking if anybody wanted a swig. Felix took his share, but Aequitas and I just shook our heads. Graft arrived a few minutes later, plopping herself in the chair I was sitting in.

At long last, Argonaut showed up, where he set down the rules.

"There will be four bouts, three where Shotokan fights one from each team and one where he fights us altogether. On the fourth match, my team and I will start fighting only when Shotokan says he's ready, seeing as he's fighting three people on his own. If he attacks without saying he's ready, he will automatically lose. A person is out only if they're knocked unconscious or if they forfeit. The bout will not end until one side is victorious. Any questions?" I raised my hand, "Yes?"

"Who'm I fighting? I know you and Jiom, but who's the third?"

"I'm the third." Graft raised her hand from my chair.

Fuck. Out of all the people to have in a fight, Argonaut had to choose my crush. That bastard probably did it on purpose too.

"If there's nothing else," Argonaut said, "Shall we?" He motioned to the chairs.


End file.
